CHAPTER 8
Jess rarely slept well. Too many things rattling around her head, many of which she could do little about, but she always tried to focus on the things that she could, few as they were.
She felt sanguine about the events unfolding around her, and because she was alone, she was spared the burden of worrying about anyone else; which, perversely, was a good thing. The only good thing about being alone, she thought, was that it made things simpler.
She had gone to bed as usual at around 9 p.m. because she would be up again at 2.30 a.m., when she would throw on some jeans and a sweatshirt and get herself down to Walkers for the 3 a.m. start. Maybe Clive would have some more shifts for her so she could at least partially make up for the loss of her day job at Debita, but the pay wasn’t as good; and even if it was, she would have to work twice the hours she did at Debita to earn enough to keep afloat.
But it seemed that no matter how much she paid the men in black coats, the debt kept rising. She had been given a mountain to climb, and although she was climbing higher and higher, the gradient got steeper and steeper. She should have realised long before now that she was pushing water uphill, and that was probably exactly what the men in black coats intended. The debt was never to be meant to be repaid; it would forever be out of reach.
But tonight, she couldn’t get to sleep. Things were moving rapidly and now she had a deadline to meet. Friday. If she didn’t do something by Friday, the thugs would return, and she had nothing to give them other than the meagre contents of her house – and herself. She had no illusions that she was anything other than of limited and temporary value, and the thought chilled her to the bone. But eventually, sleep came.
***
She’s in her room and she’s reading a book because she has to do it in English tomorrow and it’s very hard to understand because it’s William Shakespeare and he uses funny words all the time but there’s a noise downstairs and someone is shouting and it’s her dad and then her mum shouts, “Joe, no!” and something’s happened and she drops the book and leaps off the bed and she’s frightened to leave her room but there’s more shouting and she tiptoes to the top of the stairs and then there’s a crash with some crockery or something and then a sound like a slap and another cry and she goes halfway down the stairs and she’s gripping the balusters looking through and Mum and Dad are fighting but Dad has Mum’s hair in one hand and she is screaming and then he punches her in the face … “No!” she screams and he looks up at her in fury and lets go of her mum and she drops to the floor sobbing and Dad puts his jacket on and walks out and slams the door and she’s sobbing … and she wishes he was dead.
***
She woke with a start and heard someone cry out. She half sat up in the large bed, wide-eyed, alert, and noticed the time on the bedside clock: 1.45 a.m. Forty-five minutes to go. Still time for a snooze, and she needed it. She sat and listened for a moment. There was no sound to be heard other than the distant rumble of a solitary car in the road at the end of her street. She laid her head down again and quickly dropped off.
At 2.15 a.m. her mobile phone rang, but she had fallen into a deep sleep and it took her a moment to come to her senses. Her phone never rang at night, so she was perturbed, but then suddenly remembered the reason she always left it on. Just in case. She quickly reached over to the bedside table for the increasingly agitated device and peered at the display in anticipation. St James Nursing. She was immediately deflated.
“Hello,” she said.
“Mrs Khalid?” said the disembodied voice down the line.
“Yes?”
“It’s Cindy, one of the night staff from St James.”
Jess said nothing.
“It’s Jess, isn’t it?” said Cindy cautiously preparing the ground.
“Yes.”
“Oh, Jess, I’m really sorry, but I’m afraid your dad has gone.”
“When?” said Jess without intonation, without emotion.
“About half an hour ago.” Jess glanced at the clock. Half an hour ago. 1.45 a.m. “We went in to check on him and he’d passed away in his sleep. We did what we could and called in the paramedics and they came straight away, but it was too late. I’m so sorry.”
Cindy was used to piling on the solicitude even when it wasn’t required, but she could never be sure how the person she was talking to was going to react. Jess said nothing, so Cindy continued.
“Would you like to come in and see him? He’s resting peacefully now.”
Jess hesitated.
“Yes … thank you.” She turned off her phone and pushed back the covers. Another reason.